


Drinkies

by Kokochin



Category: Company - Sondheim/Furth
Genre: Bobbie is, F/F, female in this, in fact
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-26 18:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30110358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kokochin/pseuds/Kokochin
Summary: It started out innocent at first, an innocuous - unplanned, really - invitation to drinks on a Saturday. She and Joanne fell into a routine after that.
Relationships: Bobbie/Joanne, Joanne/Robert (Company)
Kudos: 6





	Drinkies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MoonliteMooney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonliteMooney/gifts).



> Hello this is my submission to become apart of this very niche lesbian ship, thank you.
> 
> Moonlitemooney inspired me to write this, honestly your fics keep this fandom alive I've reread them so many times.

Bobbie blinks her eyes rapidly against the offensive sun peeking through the curtains, letting out a displeased hum at the crust built up in the corner of her eyes. The ever-present stink that permeates across New York stretches up to her window but doesn’t quite make it into her room, though Bobbie can tell it’s time to close it. A deep breath, heavy across her chest, and Bobbie is swinging her pale legs over the side of the bed. The blonde, prickly hairs on her shins shimmer in the light before they’re covered by previously discarded sweats. Bobbie slams the window shut on her way out to the kitchen. She cringes when she starts on her coffee, heating it in the microwave. Everything seems to be too loud right now.

Especially, and Bobbie realizes this with a jolt, her phone cutting across the relative quiet with a sharp, offending ring. A look at the caller ID and Bobbie feels less annoyed.

“...Jo?” Hardly a breath of a word, Bobbie clears her throat and tries again, “what’s up?”

“Bobbie” Bobbie ignores the way the familiar rich tone makes her shiver, “I’ve called you twice”  
Bobbie perks up at this, well, this and the fact that her coffee’s just finished. “Oh?” She can’t help the way she smiles, Joanne hardly reaches out first, “I was ignoring you in favor of the forty-something brunette in my bed.”

A pause, just long enough to make Bobbie reconsider her little joke, “sounds like stimulating company. I suppose you’re too busy for tonight then”

Mid-sip, Bobbie’s eyes widen, she haphazardly clangs her mug onto the counter. “Tonight?” She shoots a half-glance to her calendar, still not switched from December, fuck. “I mean, of course, I’m not busy - I mean” Bobbie cuts herself off with a breath, “I was only joking Jo, there’s no one here,” she doesn’t know why it feels important to clarify that, only that it helps her imagine Joanne’s slow smile, and that should be reason enough. “Did I forget about some plans we made? God, I’m sorry Jo you know how I - “ She stops when she hears Joanne chuckle.

“Jo?”

Joanne clears her throat, fighting a few minor giggles “I’m inviting you out kiddo, I didn’t mean to send you into a panic” Bobbie shrinks down, prays to God the heat in her cheeks isn’t visible. With her luck, Joanne will have some super sense that lets her feel the warmth through the phone. “I’m happy I don’t have to play the third wheel to you and a… what was it?”

“Jo, Joanne please” Bobbie whines, her hand cupping her forehead.

“Forty-something brunette,” Joanne says it in a vicious staccato. Bobbie doesn’t picture her smile now, but her dark eyes. The one’s that dig into you, relishing in every flush or flounder. She crosses her legs.

“Ok, you win Jo, I’m flustered… Where are we meeting?”

“The bar I like, the one Larry won’t go to.” Joanne seems to take pity on her, though her voice isn’t without mirth.

“Just you and me, then?” Joanne answers with a hum, Bobbie’s lips inevitably quirk up at this “Are you talking about the one on 6th street?”

“Spot on kiddo, as usual. Meet me at nine” Bobbie opens her mouth to speak “And don’t forget your coat.” The line goes dead.

Just for that, Bobbie sends an array of overly enthusiastic texts to the older woman. Joanne reads them but doesn’t reply. She sets down her phone, it may or may not be dejectedly, and works on the rest of her coffee.

The rest of the day passes in an exciting blur. Not that the activities themselves are exciting, but the prospect of seeing Joanne makes Bobbie finish them with surprising efficiency. Best not to have anything in the way so she can give Jo her full attention, as any good friend would do.

Bobbie finishes her tasks at 2 pm and curses Joanne for not wanting to meet sooner. There’s a particular kind of anxiety setting in now, the kind she gets when it comes to Jo, like Bobbie can’t stand to be away from her but also hopes the afternoon drags on forever. She’s nervous is the thing, Bobbie is a naturally nervous person, or she must be with the way Joanne makes her blush.

Larry helps, sweet Larry. A bumbling, good-natured buffer between Joannes razor-sharp eyes and Bobbie’s ever flustered demeanor. Jo makes her feel like a kid sometimes, and the affectionate moniker doesn’t help.

Well, not tonight. Larry’s not coming, or it was at least implied he wasn’t - Bobbie ignores the dread at the thought of him showing up at the bar and surprising her - so Bobbie has to dig deep and find that suave, confident, 35-year-old woman inside herself, especially after that disaster of a phone call. She feels like she’s missing something when Joanne teases her, and if she could hold her own in the conversation for more than 10 minutes maybe she would find out what it is.

Bobbie keeps her resolution in mind when it comes time to get ready, if she looks good she’ll feel confident and the rest is sure to follow. She skips lipstick and goes for a smoky eye instead, no use trying to maintain it should she get drunk, and she will. She thinks of Joanne and how she always wears lipstick, never pink though, always something darker, fuller. Does Jo’s lipstick get smudged when she drinks? She’ll have to watch close tonight and see.

With her makeup done, she moves over to her closet, running her hand over the clothes and noting the different sensations. She stops short on silk, it’s soft and… oh, very bold. Bobbie eyes the dress on the hanger and she’s transported back to her 27th birthday. She was walking down SoHo and the wine red caught her eye, made her think of Joanne and her favorite lipstick, and, well, she bought it.

There are not many occasions to wear a dress like this, it’s longer, thank god, with spaghetti straps on top, and the feel of it is just divine. She imagines presenting her leg or hip to Joanne so she can feel it too, a ringed hand running down the fabric, can picture Jo saying, _“Oh that does feel nice, kiddo, must’ve cost all your spending money”_ or something similar. Joanne would be able to buy a dress like this at the drop of a hat, probably has, she would know it was good quality, know Bobbie had good taste and - _“Don’t forget your coat”_

Right, what coat did Bobbie have that matched this? None, as it turns out. Her Birthday is in July, no need for one then. It’s late March now, so it won’t be too out of season, and not much could talk Bobbie out of wearing it at this point. She just knows Joanne will give her shit when she gets there.

Let her.


End file.
